


taste

by manbunjon



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21927634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manbunjon/pseuds/manbunjon
Summary: It’s like he’s addicted to you, like he can’t get enough of you. And you don’t mind it, you really don’t. You don’t mind the mess and the laundry and all the ruined underwear that ends up in tatters across the room. You take everything he gives you, and offer more.
Relationships: Charlie (Marriage Story)/Reader, Charlie Barber/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 135





	taste

He has you any way, every way.

On the sofa when you’re just sitting there watching something on the television, when you’re a bit sweaty from the tennis match he had talked you into playing, when you’re cooking dinner in the kitchen and something about the way you sway your hips to the radio sets him off.

It’s almost Pavlovian, the way just seeing him has your thighs clenching together, has you licking your lips. It’s his eyes, sharp and dark and infinitely deep, pinning you in place when he wants to have you. And have you he does, on that couch, on that granite counter in the kitchen, on the middle of his stage or on all of his prop furniture, on the chaise beside the pool, when you both know that anyone who walks by the low fence could see you.

It’s like he’s addicted to you, like he can’t get enough of you. And you don’t mind it, you really don’t. You don’t mind the mess and the laundry and all the ruined underwear that ends up in tatters across the room. You take everything he gives you, and offer even more.

Charlie kneels in front of you, thighs draped over his strong shoulders, legs splayed wide so that he could wriggle himself between. His palm spans the width of hour belly, feeling the way you undulate beneath him, the way he makes you writhe beneath his touch and his mouth and the tongue that makes you come so many times in succession.

He doesn’t even pay attention to himself, to the hardness pushing against the metal teeth of his zipper. He only cares about this, about you. He’s addicted to your taste, your absolute sweetness, the way you tremble beneath him as he sets his mouth on you, the way your hand fists in his dark hair and pulls and pulls and pulls until he thinks you might pull it out. Not that he would mind. Not that he would even notice.

He laps at you, gets a good enough taste of you that he’s sure he’ be able to taste it all day. It gives him a sick sort if pleasure, knowing that, knowing that he’ll be facing the lawyers and the judges and her— all with the taste if your sweet pussy on his lips. His tongue curls against you, plush lips pulling and pushing and twisting against you, lapping at you like he’s starving and you’re some sweet, exotic fruit.

It’s messy. God, it’s so messy. His spit and your come mingle, painting the insides of your thighs and the cheeks and chin he has just spent the morning shaving, until his face is shining obscenely and you can’t help but blush to look at him.

“You taste so sweet.” he murmurs, kissing the velveteen skin at the crease of your thigh. “You always taste so fucking sweet. I could stay between your legs all day, I swear to God.”

“You’d starve.” You tease, tugging at his dark hair, brushing it from his brow in an expression so tender it almost had tears welling in his eyes.

“I’d never starve.” he says, returning to his work, grazing his teeth over your clit in a way that has you shouting in pleasure and surprise. “I’d never go hungry again, not with your pussy to keep me full.”

He makes you come and come and come again, more times than you can count, more times than you ever thought you could, until the sheets of the bed you’ve now been sharing require changing, until you’re so wet that the sounds of his tongue against your slick folds is actively obscene.

You kiss him afterwards, you always kiss him, and you smile as his tongue rolls against yours, as he kisses you long and hard and deep. He loves that about you, loves that you aren’t disgusted by the taste of yourself or ashamed of what you’ve just done. 

“I love you.” he says, he always says. “I’ve never loved anyone else like this. Not anyone.”

You brush his hair gently behind the ears he still thinks are too big, no matter how many times you tell him otherwise. You kiss his long nose and his swollen lips and each of his half-lidded eyed. “I love you, Charlie.” You say, and he smiles back at you like it’s your first time all over again.

“I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself.” he says, sinking down on top of you.

He lays his head on your bare breast, kisses your nipple in a way only he could make soothing instead of sexual, listens to your heart beat against the shell of his ear, wonders how if beats for him. He squishes you down, all muscle and height and heavy acting intensity. Doesn’t want to be parted from you, not now, not ever.

“I love you so much I don’t think I could ever love anyone else.” he says. He wonders why he says it, why he can’t stop the words from springing forth.

“So don’t.” You say, curling against him, wrapping your arms and legs around his back as though he were your only source of heat in this bracing winter. “Save all your love for me.” You say. “I’ll keep it safe.”

And he knows you will, he knows.

**Author's Note:**

> i got an ask on tumblr....and thus a fic was born
> 
> you can also find me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/jewishbensolo) or [tumblr! 💕](http://oberynmartell.tumblr.com)


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